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Maya is a week old the first time Jake is completely alone in the apartment with her. It's been a whirlwind of a week to say the least - nothing can really prepare you for life with a newborn - and Jake's already forgotten what it's like to sleep for more than four hours a night, but it's all been so deliriously, divinely worth it.
He cradles his daughter and gently carries her to the couch, placing his hand carefully behind her head as he manoeuvres her to lie in his lap just as all of the pregnancy books and pre-natal classes taught him, and for the millionth time that week he marvels at just how fragile her little body is. When he puts his feet up on the coffee table and tents his legs so that she’s sitting more upright, Maya opens her eyes and scrunches her tiny face up at him, as if all too aware and unimpressed that her mom has gone out briefly to pick up a prescription she needs.
"Hey, it's just you and me, huh, baby?" he strokes her cheek with his finger and she immediately relaxes at his touch. "Mommy's just gone out for a bit but she's going to be back so soon, and until then we're going to manage just fine."
He says it more to reassure himself - he knows Amy has absolutely every faith in him to look after Maya and told him as much multiple times during her pregnancy, but there's still a niggling anxiety in the back of his mind that worries he'll do something wrong. What if he held her too tight, or she choked on something, or he dropped her-
Maya's tiny hand wraps around his finger and he lets out a breath. He's got this.
"I still can't believe you're finally here, Maya," he smiles at her. She keeps clinging to his finger. "Mommy and I waited so long to have you, you know. We really, really wanted you here, with your cute nose, and perfect lips and tiny toes," he gently thumbs each part as he speaks. "You're our little miracle baby."
It pains him to think of all the times he held a crying Amy on this very same couch because her period had started, all the times she shook her head and binned another pregnancy test, or the nights he lay awake watching his sleeping wife and wondering what was so wrong with him that they couldn't make this work, that he couldn't make her happy. He studies Maya’s perfect face - they’ve already fawned for hours over her trying to decide which features matches which parent (“She has your eyes,” Amy keeps telling him) - and wishes there was some way to tell his past self, and more importantly Amy, that everything works out in the end.
"We're going to have so much fun, you know. I've got so many things to show you,” he tells her. "I'm going to take you to Disneyland, but not in Florida because Florida sucks. I’m gonna try and convince Mommy to let us get season passes and Tia Rosa and I have already talked about what rides we’re taking you on first. Charles will probably want to come too with Nikolaj and it’ll be like this big, awesome family trip.
“And when you're even older, you can play Mario Kart with me and I’ll let you get first dibs on the characters because that’s what good dads do." Maya gurgles at that, and Jake wishes Amy would come home already so that he can tell her that she’s just been knocked down to being his second favourite person to play his Nintendo with (not that she’d probably care).
He lets out a laugh at his daughter’s sheer cuteness. “God, you don’t even know how cute you are, baby. Just like your mommy.
"We both won the lottery with her, you know. Can you believe that? And just like her, you're going to do so many amazing things in your life. I mean, you're already super awesome at being a baby - like, you’re the most awesome baby that has ever existed which is a pretty neat achievement for being one week old, don’t you think?”
But Maya doesn’t seem flattered by his praise in the slightest because she scrunches her little face up again and, only seven days in, Jake realises that this particular expression means she’s about to cry. He immediately lifts her from his lap and snuggles her to his shoulder before she can start to wail properly - he sniffs her baby booty in an attempt to gauge if she needs a diaper change (all clear, thank God) and soothingly rubs her back.
"Maybe you’re getting hungry, huh, baby?” he angles a kiss to her dark head of hair. “I sure know you love Mommy and her boobs right now - that's another thing you and me have in common already, by the way.” He laughs to himself remembering earlier that morning when he’d walked into their bedroom to an exhausted Amy sitting upright in bed lamenting how in that moment she felt like a cow having been up most of the night trying to nurse. He had assured her that she was the most beautiful cow he'd ever seen, and she’d stuck her tongue out at him before returning all her attention to their precious baby. Getting to see his wife finally become a mom after all the months of pillow-talking and dreaming about what it might be like to have a baby of their own is a feeling equally as magical and surreal as holding said baby against him.
“She’s going to be home in probably five minutes so it’s all okay, sweetheart,” he soothes against Maya’s head. His heart glows at the fact that she seems to be taking comfort in his presence, and he knows this bond they’re building together is unbreakable and that he’d do absolutely anything for this bundle in his arms. He lowers his voice to a whisper, laced with affection and unconditional love, as his daughter drools on his shoulder, “We love you so much, baby. Like, more than you could ever possibly know. You were made from love, Maya.”
And as if his heart could get any more full in that moment, he hears Amy’s keys in the door.